Page 12 of Hug Bug

BJ perks up at once, then blushes. "I thought I had an accident."

"Thank gods you’re safe."

BJ zooms away from me in the dump truck, waving his right hand above his head as he hips and hurrays. He crashes into pretty much everything, even the pile of pillows where we’ve been laying.

"Another accident."

I frown as I put my hands on my hips. "Your car insurance rates are going to spike."

"Too bad I’m on yours."

BJ keeps driving as I chase him, flailing my hands above my head. He’s so fast in his toy dump truck, which I purchased from a Little store just for him.

I thought the Hug Club would have one lying around, yet alas, they’re not used to construction Littles.

BJ loves his dump truck. The proud smile on his face is the widest smile I’ve ever seen. Not even a butterfly stumbling across an untouched grove of clover smiles so wide.

BJ backs up. Beep beep beep. "Unloading."

I put rubber duckies in the back of the dump truck, and they fall all over the floor as he presses the button to make the dump truck dumper fall back.

I think that’s what it’s called—a dumper. Damn, I’m around these trucks all day, and I don't even know what it’s called.

I look down and tap my foot on the ground as the rubber duckies spill over my feet. "Unbelievable."

"You’re in the way of my dumper load!"

I palm my forehead. "Boy, you need to give people a little more warning before you unload. If these were rocks, you’d kill them."

"Good thing they’re rubber duckies."

BJ hops out of his dump truck and thrusts his arms around me. He’s crying, his tears staining my shirt, and he squeezes me tight. "Best Daddy ever. Oh, I love my dump truck, Daddy. Thank you for getting this for me."

I drop to my knees, then take his hand in mine. I press it to my chest. "There are still so many more toys for you to play with, BJ. Toys that’ll be as much fun as the dump truck. Don't cry, precious boy. You’re Daddy’s working guy today and there’s a lot of work for you to do."

BJ sniffles, ticking his head up. "T-There is?"

I smile as I gesture to all the other toys. Shovels. Buckets. Blocks. So much more. "You bet. This time, Daddy will guide you. You had your fun, but you also made quite a mess. The task for today will be to build a home for all the duckies you spilled. We’ll work hard constructing the best apartment building for them so they have a safe place to stay. A place away from dump trucks."

BJ’s eyes lock on mine. They’re radiant, emerald-green and vibrant. They pulse with the very energy of life itself, and all at once, I regret not making BJ my perfect boy months earlier.

How much fun could we have had together? How many wonderful moments like this one could we have shared?

BJ nods. "A home for duckies."

I boop his nose. "You must build it well."

"I will."

I reach for his right arm and squeeze it. "Are you strong enough to accomplish such a task? Or do you need to do push-ups first?"

BJ flexes his bicep. "Strong enough. Duckies can count on me."

We race to the blocks, then get to work. BJ hums the theme song to Bob the Builder as he works, totally lost in play. I hand him blocks, and he stacks them one on top of the other.

Then, I do something silly. I plop down in a secret Daddy dump truck that I also bought, one that I hid away from his eyes behind a shelf, and drive it through the block apartment complex.

BJ screams, moving his hands to his cheeks before bursting out into laughter. "You killed our house for duckies!"

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